


"Inferno"

by helenkacan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family, Gen, Inspired by Real Events, Natural Disasters, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 13:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6755884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenkacan/pseuds/helenkacan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney McKay is millions of miles away in another galaxy. But, this week, he's brought back crashing down to Earth - yes, <i>that</i> Earth. There is nothing he can do except to reach out to family.</p><p>Time: Present day, May, 2016</p><p>Snippet of fic:<br/>Nobody, even blindfolded, would have ever mistaken Rodney for someone who exercised the trait of sentimentality. Not for things. Or places. Well, perhaps for a working chair in Antarctica again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Inferno"

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get the horrifying images from Ft. McMurray (Alberta) out of my head. Seeing so much of a town reduced to rubble from a natural disaster, even thousands of miles away, is disturbing. Knowing that at least 80,000 people - so far - have been evacuated is something I can't comprehend, especially because of the immediate threat to life. Accepting the reality of the challenges to stopping the devastation evokes a natural feeling of helplessness.
> 
> And, then, I feel I have to write something, to express how Rodney and Jeannie might be reacting, knowing that their canonical home has been destroyed. It's not often that real life and fandom intertwine as they have in this story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Nostalgically mine, something I'll never abandon!

Nobody, even blindfolded, would have ever mistaken Rodney for someone who exercised the trait of sentimentality. Not for things. Or places. Well, perhaps for a working chair in Antarctica again.

But, this week, Rodney felt a burning lump deep in his chest. It ... hurt ... to know that much of his hometown of Ft. McMurray had been engulfed by ravaging flames, fed by unnaturally high temperatures, tinder-dry conditions, shifting winds and dry lightning strikes in the forest that was just too close to populated areas.

No, he hadn't been the one following the news back on Earth ... usually didn't care if it didn't involve scientific theories or applications, but Jeannie (so devastated to see her own lingering childhood memories going up in a blaze) had been the one to alert him in the latest batch of incoming messages.

Personally, he couldn't understand the draw of a place from which he'd fled decades ago, as had many of his cousins, away from the oil fields, seeking at least the normality of a big city to the south, even if they only got as far as Edmonton, though he'd heard there were some distant McKays who'd settled as far away as the Atlantic provinces. And, of course, there was Jeannie on the West coast.

But Rodney knew that Jeannie had a different outlook on life. She always thought she'd have the opportunity to bring Kaleb and Madison back to where she'd grown up and spent more years than Rodney had. She could have planned a scenic cross-half-the-country road trip to celebrate Madison's high school graduation, probably spending a whole week just at the Edmonton Mall.

Then, when they'd driven the rest of the way north, he could imagine her blithely striding up the driveway of their old house, knocking on the door and blatantly asking the current residents whether she could show her family her old room or backyard. Because _that_ was so Jeannie, discarding convention, arguing that everybody in _Fort Mac_ would surely welcome the return of a native, no matter how long it had been. Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Rodney knew that would never happen now.

Suddenly, the walls of his lab felt too oppressive, radiating imagined heat and smoke. Even with plentiful natural light streaming in through open windows, he needed to be outdoors, to inhale the fresh air of their new planet. He clicked his comm link to the team channel, talked briefly before grabbing his tablet and hurrying out.

::~::

Seated with his friends at their usual table on the balcony, their lunches mostly demolished – though Ronon seemed to be eyeing his second pudding cup with a suspicious gleam – Rodney pulled up some pictures he had stored on his tablet.

The others let him talk for a few minutes though, when his voice faltered in describing the evacuation of close to a hundred thousand residents, many with just the clothes on their backs, losing not only their homes but the essential minutia of their daily lives, it was Teyla who reached out first to clasp his arm.

"It is a sad time for the people of your land, Rodney, but at least there has been no loss of life, from what Jeannie says. Homes can always be rebuilt, relationships restored, communities re-strengthened, if the will of the people is strong. You have often reminded us of the fine qualities of Canada and of Canadians. Does not your national song speak of being 'strong and free'?"

Rodney sighed, patting the hand on his arm with clumsy fingers. "Thanks, Teyla. I figured you – you, too, Ronon - would understand most of all, after what you've endured in Pegasus. I know everyone is rallying, with troops being called in to assist, firefighters from other provinces rushing to provide valuable expertise, emergency relief funds being collected, but I hate the feeling of being helpless."

The sudden movement of his usually expressive hands disengaged his physical connection to Teyla who returned to drinking her tea calmly, though still listening intently.

"It would be bad enough if I were in Colorado or Area 51 but, way out here, I feel so remote, unable to contribute. We've fought the Wraith, the Replicators, but we can't fight something as senseless as fire."

John frowned. Rodney seemed to always take on the burdens of all of Atlantis, but it wasn't fair that he should be overwhelmed with this particular disaster. "Not to be insensitive, Rodney, but what could you do personally, if we were back on Earth?"

Rodney's hands stilled, just for a second. And, then, he threw them up in the air. His voice rose, obviously upset. "I don't know, Sheppard, but at least I'd try to think of something. Seed clouds using a cloaked jumper maybe. Or to involve whatever ship is in orbit – hey, perhaps a ship could beam snow from the mountains to act as a massive flame retardant. I don't care whether that's against the SGC's _Prime Directive_ or not. I just want to stop those fires. Safely. Efficiently."

John watched his friend slump back down in his seat, seemingly defeated and out of suggestions. "I don't think any of that is possible right now, buddy. Maybe in a few years' time, science will be able to halt or prevent more disasters on Earth. Or, once the Stargate program is declassified, we'll have more real world options to help everyone."

Rodney nodded, still deep in thought of how he could save the world – his _original_ one, but rallied long enough to dig into his second pudding cup, the voices of his friends washing over him like cool refreshing rain.

::~::

Jeannie hadn't expected to receive a reply from her brother so soon. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she stared at the pictures attached to his latest e-mail.

"Madison? Kaleb, honey?" Jeannie's voice was strained. Anxious.

Her daughter and husband rushed into the kitchen, worry showing on their faces.

"I just got a message from Mer. He sent me some old photos that I never thought I'd see again. I can't believe he kept them ... though, knowing him, he might have considered them potential blackmail material."

Madison traced the image on the screen. "Is that-?"

"Yeah," Jeannie replied shakily. "That's the backyard where I grew up. Your uncle built me that special spiral slide down from my very own castle before he went away to school. He used to call me ' _Princesse Jeanette_ ' because it sounded more glamorous than just 'Jean' or 'Jeannie'. Mom even sewed me a pretend-princess dress to wear outside, over my regular clothes, because it was cold for much of the year."

As Jeannie continued to click through the photos, she added comments to nearly every single one. When she was done, she sat, stunned into silence, her eyes shining and on the brink of tears.

Kaleb was the first to break the silence. "How about you download all of the photos and then we get them printed downtown. We could frame a few and hang them up on the wall. Put the rest in a photo album. Reacquaint you with wonderful memories."

Jeannie looked up at her husband, reacquainting – good word - herself with the multitude of reasons for marrying Kaleb. And, then, she smiled, knowing she could also reacquaint herself with the loving, caring brother who'd drifted away from her, from family, from home, so long ago. Perhaps enough to _consider_ using his preferred name. Wouldn't that be something to see!

But, first, the pictures.


End file.
